This work takes its name from “Entropicalia“, a track by The Soundcarriers that feels like it’s floating through some lush, half-remembered dream of the ’60s and ’70s. The word itself is a collision: entropy and tropicália, two forces pulling in opposite directions, breakdown and bloom, structure and swirl. That tension is precisely what I was chasing here.
The composition is dense, almost overgrown. There are systems of dots, bursts, and floral forms competing for space, layered like a sonic arrangement where no instrument fully takes the lead. I think of the purple dot grids as a kind of synthetic jungle canopy, under which other forms push through, neon green orbs, black petals, pink stars, all vibrating with their own rhythms.
To me, this piece feels like a controlled unraveling. The order is there, but it’s slipping, held together by repetition, but also undone by it. That’s where the music came in: The Soundcarriers’ track isn’t chaotic, but it’s loose in a way that suggests a kind of tropical entropy. It’s music that loops and mutates, and I tried to let the painting do the same.
Entropicalia became both an atmosphere and a system, a way to imagine what it feels like when pattern meets pressure and color keeps the whole thing from falling apart.
8 x 10 in. | Acrylic on wood panel
Ángel Rafael Vázquez-Concepción 